The Rain Has Gone
by Azalea542
Summary: A sequel to "Carry On & Questions" and "Animated Girl Suite". Happens 9 months later, if you know what I mean.


The Rain Has Gone

a sequel to "Carry On & Questions" and "Animated Girl Suite"

I

Before he died, Spike had been known in some circles—mostly that of criminals on the run. Since his death; however, he had become a bit of an urban legend for taking down the Red Dragons with him. Thus every once in awhile, people on the street would recognize Faye and Jet as Spike's companions.

Then they were these two. Faye looked at the monitor to see who was ringing the bell down at the "greeting post" for the parked ship. Two teenagers stood there—the female wore pale, green cream all over her face, and looked like the daughter of the Bride of Frankenstein. The male had dyed his hair with polka dots, and had used red makeup to give the impression that he was bleeding from various cuts to the face. Young angst-punks—and Spike otaku who had gone so far as to hunt down the berth of the Bebop. "What do you want?" Faye snapped tiredly. She probably didn't look inviting, either—instead of her old sexy outfits, she was wearing stretch pants and an oversized tee-shirt that said, "Back off, I'm pregnant."

"We want to see Spike's cabin," the boy said.

Jet had been so annoyed with them the last time they had come that he had fired a gun over their heads until they ran away. "I thought we told you punks no," Faye said.

The girl held up a fistful of woolongs. "We'll give you money."

Well..Jet would probably refuse, but, hell, he wasn't here. "Okay, but stay within my eyesight and don't touch anything."

Faye watched the two angst-punks, who introduced themselves as Bruce and Laura, make their way onto the ship. "Hello, I'm Faye, I'll be your tour guide today," Faye announced, in an imitation of a perky hostess. She led them to Spike's cabin. A new lock/alarm has been placed on the wall outside. Faye keyed in a number to open the door.

"Man, it stinks in here!" Bruce complained, waving his hand in front of his ringed nose. "What's that smell?"

"Oh, come on, it's been months since I spilled that cologne," Faye returned.

"It's Cowboy Funk," Laura said.

"That was the cologne he always wore," Faye told them. She went to a table and held up a gun. "This was Spike's weapon of choice. A Jericho 941. He had it on him when he died. We got it back, but we sold his ship, the Sword—"

"—The Swordfish II," Bruce finished helpfully.

"Yeah. We sold it to pay for his funeral."

"So where do you think the Swordfish is now?" Bruce asked.

"Don't know. We didn't ask for visiting rights," Faye said flippantly. "But we got in hot water with the mechanic who designed the ship."

"Doohan," Bruce offered helpfully.

"Yeah, that's him. Ornery old geezer. He seemed to think the ship went back to being his."

"So—you got sued?"  
"No, he just finally had a heart about the matter."

"Spike's stuff became your stuff?" the girl wondered. "Didn't he have any relatives?"

"None that anyone knows of."

"What about that?" Bruce asked.

Faye was confused. "What about what?"

The boy was pointing at her womb. "It that Spike's baby?"

Faye, making an irritated face, replied, "No."

"Oh, I see. Spike wouldn't touch you, huh? What'd you do—end up sleeping with his big, ugly friend, Jet?"

Faye glared at him, and the next thing the two teens knew, they had been tossed out at gunpoint.

"You should've been more polite to her," Laura chided. "We would have gotten to see more."

"Polite? Laura, please, angst-punks aren't polite! We're _supposed_ to make rude comments and stuff."

"Well, pregnant ladies are ver-r-ry sensitive."

"How would you know?"

Laura looked at him emphatically, then down at her belly.

"Oh," Bruce croaked, and laughed nervously.

Back on the ship, Faye growled. "Damn angst-punks! They don't know the first thing about angst."

"Faye-Faye," Ed began in a singsong voice, standing next to the couch. She had been absorbed in an online game of chess while the angst punks were touring, and had paid them no mind.

"What?"

"Is the baby here yet?"

Faye looked bewildered. "No."

Edward walked into the corridor. A few minutes later, she came back. "Is it here now?"

"No! Go away!"

II

They called Danny Kirk Dano after the old phrase, "Book 'em, Dano." All but a few twentieth century television otaku had forgotten the source of the saying, _Hawaii 5-0_, but the expression itself had lived on.

Jet was talking with Dano, who sat behind his desk. Jet had just turned in a bounty. Faye was tiredly sitting on a plastic chair in the back of the office, easing her swollen feet out of her sandals. Bored, she stood up and looked at some pictures on the wall.

Dano pointed a thumb at Faye's belly. "Yours?" he mouthed to Jet.

"Yep," Jet replied cheerily.

"Sweet." Dano high-fived Jet.

"Hey, what are you two talkin' about over there?" Faye demanded irritably.

Dano ended up joining them for lunch at a sidewalk restaurant. Somehow the conversation had turned to Spike.

"Here's to the man who brought down the Mafia!" Dano toasted, and clinked glasses with Jet.

Faye refused to raise her mug. "Don't treat him like he's some big hero. No matter how I begged and pleaded, he turned his back to me and marched off to his death."

"Still, that was some partner you had," Dano remarked, pausing before taking a bite of his burger. Barbecue sauce ran over his hands. "They say he was the slickest bounty hunter around."

"In image, maybe," Jet replied, cutting a piece of steak. "In truth, he lost the bounty half the time."

"Yeah, and he actually wasn't all that bright sometimes," Faye added, cheering up. "He used to try to cook food with a flame thrower."

"His way of fixing something was kicking it until it broke," Jet added.

Faye giggled. "And what about him handing over those mushrooms to the officer?"

"What mushrooms?" Dano prodded.

"Oh, just shiitake mushrooms," Faye answered casually. "It's a long story. Best told by Ed, who's not here. Anyway, if you still think he was slick, let me tell you about this disgusting trick he used to do. He'd swallow something whole, then spit it up several minutes later."

"I never figured out how he did that one," Jet confessed.

"He tried doing it a few times when I was ill," Faye recalled with a laugh. "Maybe he thought he was cheering me up, but it just made me sicker. He could be so rude. Bull-headed, even. Like the time we were after the Teddy Bomber, and Spike was more obsessed with fighting with a rival bounty hunter. Like two animals fighting over territory."

"You know another weird thing about Spike," Jet began, chuckling. "Now this doesn't have to do with how slick he was or wasn't, but he hated cats. Yet cats loved him. They flocked to him, man. Couldn't get enough of him."

"They'd be rubbing against his leg," Faye continued. "And he'd be standing there, horrified. You should've seen the look on his face!" She took a sip of soda, then accidentally spit some out as she laughed over more memories.

"Faye!" Jet chided. "That's not lady like."

"I never-I never thought I'd be able to think about Spike without pain," she explained. "Now-now it doesn't hurt as much. I can laugh!" Suddenly there was indeed pain. She cried out.

"What is it?" Jet asked.

Faye grimaced. "Now it's you causing me pain."

"Me? What did I do?"

Dano was nervous. "Look, this seems to be a private conversation between the two of you, so if you want me to lea—"

"It's the baby!" Faye explained. "I think she's coming!"

III

Faye was lying on the hospital table, sweating profusely. Wearing a stupid looking gown, moaning with labor pain, and surrounded by medical staff, she never felt so much like a woman and yet so unfeminine at the same time. "This is your fault!" she yelled at her husband.

"It's your fault, too," he reminded her smugly, a smirk on his face. "You were the one who seduced me, not the other way around."

Faye panted. "Jet?"

"What?"  
"_Get out of here_!"

"But—"

"Get out! I want to be _alone_…" She glanced at the personnel around her. "…Um, alone with these people."

Jet shrugged and swore under his breath, and stalked out of the room.

Jet paced in the waiting room, muttering to himself. "After all she's been through with bounty hunting and all that, you'd think she could handle a little labor pain."

He wheeled around, startling a bespectacled, little man who sat on the couch. "G'yah!" the man gasped, cringing.

Jet stopped, puzzled. "Your wife having a baby?" he inquired pleasantly.

Trembling, the man nodded.

Jet resumed pacing, but felt the wormy little man's eyes following him. Suddenly, he realized the man was nervous about more than his pregnant wife. He was actually scared of Jet!

Jet paused by the window and stared out of it. He glanced around and noticed the man was finally leafing through a magazine instead of watching him. Jet walked up. "Boo!"

"Yiii!" the man shrieked.

Jet chuckled.

The man leaped off the couch and backed out of the room.

A minute or two later, a blond nurse came into the room. "Mr. Black…"

"Nurse Betty, I can explain about—"

"Your wife requests your presence."

"Huh?"

Nurse Betty smiled. "She's changed her mind."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She says you deserve to be there at the birth of your child." Her lips curled at one end. "Personally, I think she just got scared."

Faye was resting comfortably, dozing off and on. She opened her eyes. Jet was sitting next to her bed, cradling the infant. He was babbling softly in silly baby talk. Faye smiled. How incongruous—this big, fierce looking guy talking like that.

Jet glanced her way, and Faye said, "I see she's Daddy's Little Girl already."

"You ready to hold her?" he asked. "Sit up." Faye did and he carefully placed the infant in her mother's arms.

"She has a lot of hair on her head," Faye observed. "Jet black. Is that how you got that name?"

He nodded. "I came out with a full head of jet black hair…" He fingered the top of his head. "Of course, it's all deserted me now. But your hair's naturally black, too. I'd be surprised if she came out with anything else."

"But your real last name is actually Black."

"Yeah."

"Your folks were just being cute." She looked at the baby. "I think I'll call her Ebony. How about that?"

"Now _you're_ being cute."

IV

It was a few weeks later. Faye stirred with the sound of a baby crying. It was almost midnight. She nudged her husband. "It's your turn."

Jet was wide awake. "No, it's not. It's your turn."

"No, it's—"

Jet got up. "Let's not argue." He yanked her out of bed. "Let's both go. You get Ebony, and I'll get the milk."

Faye was sitting with Ebony in the living room when Jet came back from the kitchen. He handed her a bottle, and Faye held it to the baby's lips. The child sipped peacefully.

Jet looked at the clock. The date had just officially changed. "You know what today is?"

Faye yawned. "No. What?"

"It was one year ago today that Spike..left us."

"It's been a year?" Faye looked puzzled. "Seems longer than that. No, it seems shorter than that. I'm not sure." She looked down at the infant. "Well, I have a life now. I didn't think I ever would again."

Jet smiled wryly. "Spike probably wouldn't even recognize us anymore."

"You were right when you told me things would get better," Faye admitted to Jet while admiring her baby. "I couldn't believe it then. I wanted to die. But here we have a whole new life."

"Things could get even better," Jet opined cheerily.

Faye looked quizzical. "How?"

He shrugged. "I dunno." The videophone rang. "Now who could be calling at this hour?" He answered the phone. A black man in a gray business suit appeared on screen. "Do you know what time it is?" Jet demanded.

"I don't know—I'm not good at figuring out the time differences on one planet, nonetheless the whole solar system," the man replied. "Looks like you're up anyway."

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"My name's Jimmy Cockman, of the law firm Cockman and Curry."

"An attorney?"

"Is Faye Valentine there?"

Faye handed the baby to Jet and faced the video screen. "Who wants to sue me?"

Mr. Cockman held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're not being sued. In fact, you may have money coming to you."

This piqued Faye's interest. "Really?"

"Huh?" Jet wondered.

"I represent several cryogenic patients who were mishandled and who were stored away long past necessary, and then charged with astronomical and preposterous medical bills."

"So they may owe me instead of me owing them?" Faye asked. She glanced at her husband. "You're right. Things are getting better all the time." She turned back to Cockman. "So tell me all about it."

For not getting permission to continue treatment, the company Dr. Bacchus had worked for was successfully sued by Cockman, with the hot shot lawyer using arguments such as, "You can't make her pay, without her okay", and "You made sure she slept, so you could run her into debt." That Cockman was an odd one, but Faye and Jet weren't complaining. They didn't obtain wealth unimaginable, but Faye was so relieved to have that burden off her back. She and Jet ran up a new debt, much smaller, by having a party and going on a spending spree. Then Jet had a tendency to buy too many birthday and Christmas gifts for his daughter.

So after a long time of trial, danger, and hardship, and, of course, angst, Jet and Faye, their child, plus Edward were free to enjoy a few years of peace.

Hey, it can't be Hell all the time.


End file.
